


New Beginnings

by StairsWarning



Category: Red vs. Blue
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-07
Updated: 2015-07-20
Packaged: 2018-03-16 16:15:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3494798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StairsWarning/pseuds/StairsWarning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You come to the Freelancer project with no special talents and a knack for not fitting in. Will you fit in here?</p>
<p>(SORRY I HAVEN'T POSTED IN A WHILE, FOR RIGHT NOW THIS IS GONNA GO THROUGH SOME SERIOUS REWRITING)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Welcome to Project Freelancer

**Author's Note:**

> Finally. A Maine/Reader fic. YOU'RE WELCOME

**** Your name is Agent Arizona. You’re a new recruit in the Freelancer program, and you are wildly nervous. You were no super soldier like some of the agents here you’ve heard about, but somehow when you enlisted in the army you ended up here. 

Your first order of business was to choose an armor color. You decided on a dark blue with silver accents. You put on your new power armor as you headed into the compound where the other Freelancers lived. There have been a lot of crazy rumors about these guys, and you kinda didn’t want to find out how much was true. Did they actually do half the missions they were told to do? You heard that they’ve jumped off buildings before. Bullshit, you said. They couldn’t do that!

No matter what they have or have not done, you were here now and that’s all that matters. 

You approach a set of doors, guarded by some lower level guards. They must have been expecting a new recruit, so they didn’t even question your presence before opening the doors for you. 

Immediately after they close the doors, you’re hounded by a small group of lackey soldiers, much like being swarmed by a bunch of puppies. Excited and confused. You try to push them away so you have a bit of space, but all it seems that they can do is gawk. All of them are lower level soldiers, so when someone comes out in light blue power armor and tells them to scram and leave you alone, and they do so with almost a ferocity, you can only assume they’re one of the Freelancers. 

“Hey, I’m Carolina. You?” The agent sticks out her hand. You take it with a slight hesitation that you hope she doesn’t notice.

“Arizona. So Carolina, you think you could show me around? This is a lot to take in all at once.” Carolina chuckles a bit and gestures for you to follow her. You follow behind her like a duckling, quickly sweeping your head side to side to try to take everything in at once. After a minute or two, you break the silence.

“So… Where’re the other agents? And who are they?” Carolina turns her head slightly so you could hear her. 

“All in due time, Arizona. All in due time.” You felt like she was being a bit melodramatic, but you still started to panic. 

Once another minute had passed, you started to see more specialty armor. You slowly get introduced to the rest of the freelancers. First, was Agent Washington. He was like you, not exactly having a strength to have him here, but at least he was trying. 

Next, was Agent New York, A.K.A. York. He seemed to think he was suave, which Carolina soon proved wrong. He was funny and was pretty good at picking locks. After him came Agents North Dakota and South Dakota, A.K.A. North and South. They were siblings, South seemed to be going through her emo phase and North the father who doesn’t care about her looks but her heart. 

After you got introduced to everyone in that wing, you headed towards the training area where the Freelancers stayed in shape and bettered their skills. Carolina traded off touring duty with York, who lead you through the different wings of the building, having fun telling you stories about the Freelancers. 

You reach the training area, spotting two more soldiers in specialty armor. “That’s Wyoming and Texas. Tex is a really tough soldier who can even tear through Carolina, which is a hard feat, believe me. You don’t wanna mess with her.” York says. You simply watch the two go through some training exercises, the one in black armor (whom you guessed was Tex) obviously doing better than the one in white armor.

“What about Wyoming?” You ask curiously. York scoffs.

“Wyoming? He’s a big softie. Real good with a sniper rifle, but other than that he’s just a dude with a weird british accent.” You look back to Wyoming and Tex, noticing their individual techniques. Wyoming preferred using his fists, while Tex used her entire body. You guessed she was a really good fighter.

As you and York moved on, you passed by another soldier on your way out. Agent Florida, who was a bit too peppy and fatherly to be here, welcomed you to the program and wished you a good day. When Florida left, York filled you in.

“He’s odd, but he’s very sneaky. He’s also really protective over the rest of us. It helps in battle, sometimes.” You nod, letting York lead you towards another wing of the facility. 

You and York made your way to the place you would be sleeping, York saying how he wanted to see how you would react to CT and Maine. Now you really wanted to meet these two soldiers. They seemed interesting. 

When you got to the habitation wing, you looked around anxiously. You didn’t know what to expect, honestly. What you got when you walked into one of the rooms was… Not what you expected. 

When you got in there, you saw a very huge man and a small woman playing a very intense game of rock paper scissors. The two were clearly focused beneath their helmets, the smaller woman counting down. Once they both threw down their hands, the smaller of the two started cheering and hopped up. The larger man started to shake his head, getting up slowly. York finally spoke.

“The larger of the two is Maine. The smaller, Connecticut, or CT as she likes to be called.” York says, pointing to each agent.

“Damn right I liked to be called CT. If you call me Connie, I won’t show mercy.” CT says, pointing at you menacingly. You glance over to Maine, who’s stayed quiet throughout the whole time you’ve been here.

“So, you’re Maine?” You ask nervously. He nods.  _ Why must you have a thing for big, menacing, buff-ass men? _

“He doesn’t like to talk much, if you can’t tell.” York says. Maine flips York off as he walks out of the room. You then remember that you have to find your own room before it’s too late for someone to help you. 

York trades off tour duty with CT, and she helps you find your room. It turns out that your room is seated right in between her and Maine’s room. You thank her and head into your room. 

You take off your power armor and face-plant down onto your bed. You take a deep breath as you sit back up and gather all your strength to stand back up. 

You explore your room, seeing a twin bed, a nightstand with a lamp and a radio on it and against the opposite wall a bathroom. At the end of the bed there was your luggage. You grab a pair of jeans and a t-shirt and pull them on. You then realize that you don’t know where to go to get food, or what time. You decide to go ask CT, as she is much less intimidating as Maine.  _ And much less likely to make you flustered.  _ You walk out of your room and knock on CT’s door. No answer. Damn. You guess you gotta ask Maine then. 

You slowly walk towards Maine’s door and knock on it lightly. After a few seconds, Maine answers. He’s not in his power armor either, he’s in sweats and a white t-shirt. He’s bald and covered in tattoos, which doesn’t help the intimidation factor of him. He’s also very muscular and very handsome, which fucks you up even more. You stutter a bit, trying to find your words.

“U-um, do you know w-what time dinner is? Or where to go for it?” You ask apprehensively. He seems to ponder something for a minute, then speaks.

“6:30. In the mess hall.” At your confused look, he continues. “I’ll show you later.” He then heads back into his room without closing the door. You head into his room slowly, seeing what he was doing. Maine had a TV in his room, and currently he was playing a game on it, Skyrim by the looks of it. 

You sit down behind him on his bed, peeking over his shoulder. Currently he was completing some Thieves Guild quests, and you watched with growing interest. Slowly you got intro’d to Maine’s character. He was a Khajiit, and Maine probably had been playing this one character for a very long time. He was level 157 and his name was Mr. Whiskers. The first time Maine opened a menu that displayed his name, Maine turned his head slightly towards you as if to say, ‘just try and make fun of his name and I’ll kick your ass’. 

After about an hour of watching Maine play, he saved and quit. He then got up, gesturing with his hand for you to follow him. You get up and follow him through the twisting tunnels, eventually getting into a mess hall type place was. You just keep silently following Maine as he grabs a tray and hands you one as well. You get your food and continue to follow the silent behemoth. He leads you away from the chatter of all the lesser soldiers that were there to guard doors and people and into a smaller area populated by all the other people you met that day. You sat down next to Maine and started eating, staying out of the conversations everyone was having, opting instead to silently eat. Soon enough, though, one of the soldiers (Washington, was it?) noticed you weren’t saying anything and tried to drag you into the conversation.

“So, Arizona, you get lost yet?” Washington jokes. You force a laugh as you nod your head. Everyone gets a laugh out of that one. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to these damn tunnels eventually.” 

The conversation then slowly gets away from you, much to your liking. For now, it’s alright if you don’t have friends. Eventually they’ll warm up to you and you’ll warm up to them.

 


	2. Nightmares and Weapons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're terrified. Of what, you ask? A ton. Maybe 3 spooks total.

After dinner you head back to your room, fully excited for sleep. What you weren’t excited for, were the nightmares. They plagued your sleep nearly every night, and when you woke up into a panic attack you couldn’t calm down till sunrise. You probably haven’t gotten a good night of sleep in years. 

You couldn’t hold a steady boyfriend or girlfriend for more than a few weeks, they always seemed to be creeped out by you and your anxieties. Fuck them. You were different from that. You knew that ‘psycho bitch’ and ‘crazy’ and ‘whore’ were intense insults, but those got slung at you so much you stopped caring. 

You just… Stopped. Stopped dating. Stopped trying. Stopped caring. You were tired of your old life, of your old job, of your own family. You wanted to do something dangerous and edgy, something that would really, really, hurt. Something that people supported. So, you joined the army. Your parents supported it, all your teachers, neighbors, hell, probably even your peers.

You joined, and here you were. In Project Freelancer, one of the most badass places to be, with the highest quality soldiers one can find. You didn’t belong here, you knew that already. You only went through basic training when you were shipped onto the Mother of Invention. You were shipped here, and you don’t even know why. Who knows. You know some people joined the war because they were afraid. Afraid of ridicule.

Some joined because of the pressures of their parents, or neighbors, or peers, because this was a war to stop the baddies, plain and simple, which was how they liked things, and you were a treasonous pussy if you had second thoughts about killing or dying for plain and simple reasons. 

You never thought about those people before you got into basic training. You never suspected that they didn’t want to be there until the first night, when you could hear the nightmares. They never shut up, they just kept going and going, wailing and wailing, pleading, begging, 

make. 

It. 

Stop. 

They sparked the flame of your own nightmares. You already had horrible experiences that would make for great nightmares, enough kindling to last a lifetime, but hearing those begs for help was just the little match needed to start them. First, they were weak nightmares, only slight annoyances. You know, waking up fast with your eyes wide open, tossing and turning, waking up in a cold sweat, the easy stuff that you can ignore once the sun comes up. What was harder to deal with, was when it got to the point where people would wake you up because you were being too loud, to the point when the sun couldn’t save you. 

Books, movies, ping-pong, training, nothing could keep your mind completely away from those thoughts. It was a perpetual weight on your psyche. It was something that time could probably never heal.

You couldn’t imagine how someone seeming so weak could make it with the big dogs. Well, here you were. Arf arf. 

You brought with you all of the things you brought to basic, which was just a duffle bag of civvie clothes, a few books, and a few mementos from home. You could lie and say that you were excited and full of courage to face the missions you had to here. But, you weren’t a liar. You were terrified. You were terrified you were gonna die. You were terrified you were gonna fail. You were terrified you were gonna mess up. You were terrified you wouldn’t be strong enough. 

Plain and simple, you were scared shitless.

You approached your bed, slowly climbing into it, easing into sleep. Then, they started. You were fighting, hard. You kept trying and trying and trying and people kept. Fucking. Dying. It was all your fault.

“How could you do this? Look at this, look! Everyone gone! Because of you! You!” Slowly the chorus of ‘You!’ got louder and  _ louder _ until you could hear  _ nothing else but their terrified screams for help, why won’t you HELP us, you’re a SOLDIER for Christ sakes, PLEASE, we’re DYING WHY WON’T YOU JUST HELP US FOR ONE MOMENT IN YOUR FUCKING LIFE- _

You woke up in a cold sweat, the covers thrown from your body. You were hyperventilating and your eyes were darting around your room, your body burning, needing to grab something to protect yourself with. But there was nothing you needed protection from. You knew you couldn’t reason your way out of this, so you simply got up, left your room, and knocked on Maine’s door.

Maybe he was strong enough to help you. 

He opened the door, looking down at you in confusion. He still had his white t-shirt and sweats on, thank God, but he still has an adorable sleepiness in his face that makes you calmer already. 

“Nightmares?” He said quietly. You nodded. He then opened his door to you, to which you thankfully slipped inside and sat on his bed, still internally panicking. Maine looked almost uncomfortable standing by the door, but he quickly walked over to his video game console and started up a game. You were about to question what he was doing when he created another character in Skyrim and handed you the controller. He sat down next to you and you quietly started playing. When you got to the character creation menu, you made your character a wood elf and named them Mao. 

You probably played for quite a while, because eventually CT came knocking on Maine’s door asking where you were. You were extremely tired, but you didn’t want to appear to be slacking off so when you and Maine walked down to the mess hall, you simply grabbed a small coffee, a large cup, and two energy drinks.

“I’m gonna fucking die.” You deadpan as you mix the coffee and the energy drinks together. You then take a large swig of the odd concoction and you feel like you could take on the world and more. You head over to the Freelancers table, Maine carrying both your food tray and his. You both sit down.

“What the hell is that?” Washington asks, looking into your cup with curiosity.

“Coffee and two energy drinks. I only slept probably two hours last night.” You look around to all the Freelancers, each one of their faces mirroring some subset of concern. “Don’t worry guys, I’ve done this before. If I nurse this for the day, I’ll be fine and I’ll crash when I need to sleep. It makes my sleep dreamless, at least.” All the Freelancers still look concerned for you, but they turn away. 

York gestures for you to hand over your drink, and you do so cautiously, ready to swipe it back if he decides to pour it out. Instead, he takes a sip and almost spits it back out.

“Jesus, Arizona. That’s some potent stuff.” York coughs for a second and hands back your drink. Everyone laughs a bit at York, who is still coughing and trying to get the taste off his tongue as you keep eating your breakfast quietly. 

Carolina leans over to Maine and whispers something to him, a concerned look on her face. Probably asking why CT found you in his room, and why you only slept two hours last night.

Those two facts together, you think, are mighty suspicious towards a totally different act than you actually did.  _ Fuuuuuck me,  _ you think. You mentally facepalm at your luck and eat your breakfast.

After breakfast you head to your room and change into your new power armor. Today was your first day of training, and you were actually pretty excited for it. You nearly skipped out of your room and as you turned down the hallway towards the training area as you nearly bumped into a newly suited-up Maine, taking both him and you by surprise.

"Oof! Oh, s-sorry Maine! Didn't see you there." You stutter out, hearing what sounded like a faint chuckle on Maine's part. "Wanna be sparring buddies, Maine?" You ask him playfully, getting scared for your own well being as you do so, thinking of your body beaten to a pulp after you possibly spar with Maine. He seems to contemplate this for a few seconds, then nods. You smile at him, even though he can't see it. 

You walk with Maine down the hallway into the training area, where Carolina is already practicing her accuracy. You look around the area nervously, not sure what to do or where to go. You look to Maine and he leads you to a small area with knives and targets. Maine offers you one, and at your little shrug and head shake, he shows you some technique on throwing knives. 

First, he shows you stance. You mirror everything he’s doing, and slowly get the hang of mirroring Maine. You practice holding the knife, how to throw it, and then you throw it. It doesn’t hit exactly on target, but you’re still extremely excited, hopping around and grabbing another knife. You take your stance, and try again. This time, you get closer to the target, but not exactly on. You do this a few times, getting more and more excited as the knives get closer and closer to the bullseye. Eventually you hit the bullseye, getting a high-five from a passing South. 

Carolina, who has heard your constant cheering, walks over with a cranky look in her face, grabs a handful of small knives, and throws them at the target. They all hit within half an inch of the bullseye. Instead of quieting down like she probably intended, you instead cheered loudest of all. She awkwardly rubs the back of her neck and chuckles, not expecting you to do that. You could see Maine out of the corner of your eye doubled over, silently laughing.

When Carolina goes back to training, Maine composes himself and leads you to another area to train. You reach an area with a row of different types of guns. You have no real formal experience with guns outside of basic training, so you awkwardly grab a gun and make a distressed noise at Maine. 

He just shakes his head and grabs the gun from you. You first look over a few types of SMG’s and shotguns. Maine shows you how to hold it and hands it to you. You go through the same process with most of the guns, holding them, handing them to Maine, then figuring out how to fire them properly without getting hurt. You were an alright shot, so you only needed to fix minor things for now. 

“Hey Maine?” You ask innocently. He turns to look at you, setting a sniper rifle down. “Can we work with another gun please?” Maine nods, confused at the shy politeness. “Can I shoot a grenade launcher?”

You cackle as you can almost see through Maine’s helmet at his epic eye roll.

After you wrap up handling the guns, you realize it was time for lunch. You and Maine start to head over to the mess hall, when you run into Carolina, South, and CT talking. You walk closer nervously, just for them to stop talking and look at you. You don't know whether to stare them down or to look at the floor, but instead Maine chooses a third option for you. He growls at the three women and then gesture for them to follow you both to the mess hall.

Honestly, you really respect Maine. He's protective, he's supportive, he's kind...  _ don't forget handsome,  _ your brain reminds you. Why your subconscious is so thirsty, you don't know.  _ Oh you know exactly why you’re so thirsty ;). _ But, you don't care to focus on that right now. Instead, you focus on getting your food and talking to your fellow Freelancers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahahahaha im bad at cliffhangers but oh well, yknow? TUNE IN NEXT TIME, FOLKS


	3. A New Romance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You exercise and learn about the party welcoming you to PFL. Will this be a good or bad experience?

When you arrive at the table, most faces are either upset or sympathetic. Mostly upset. Please god let them not know about the…  _ thing _ . Your anxiety is not something you like to talk about, especially when you can overcome it. But in certain situations, when things are really overwhelming, you just cannot function. At all. If you meet someone you can trust, you tell them about it, but when you’re in the army they respond one of two ways. Like a five-year-old made of glass, or like a challenge of who can break you the fastest. Maybe if they know they’ll act normal around you. If they already knew that now, they would not be doing a very good job of acting normal. 

You sigh quietly as you sit down at the table, your cup of energy coffee nearing the bottom of the cup. You get up to grab more energy drinks, but Maine pulls you back down by your arm as Wash gets up to grab some. Why were they giving you special treatment? You didn’t want special treatment. You wanted to be  _ normal _ , not a charity case. You frown and sigh as you accept the energy drink from Wash. He simply walks back over to his seat as if he didn’t see your distain. Oh well. 

You quietly finish your lunch, standing up and stretching, ready to continue training for the day. Maine stands up with you, following you as you find the area with weights. You run through bicep and shoulder exercises for today, hoping you’re not extremely sore tomorrow. 

By the time you finish, you glance over to Maine, who is running through full body exercises. Does he really have to be  _ that _ attractive? You knew it was a bit weird thinking like that since he is kind of your superior in  _ so many ways _ , but who cares? This isn’t high school. 

You quickly look away, realizing that you’ve been staring for way too long. You weren’t completely sure if he saw you or not, but you internally swear when you hear his low chuckle. Fuck, he must have seen you looking. You try not to blush too hard as you start putting your armor back on. You decided to train without armor and then slowly graduate to training with armor on to toughen yourself up a bit. 

You put the weights back in their places as you run a hand through your sweaty hair before putting your helmet on. Yup, you’ll definitely need a shower after that. You start walking back to your room, meeting CT on the way. She stops you.

“Hey! Arizona! We’re having a congratulatory party for you joining PFL!” You make a face at CT, trying to show that you were neither up for it physically or emotionally. Being around so many people while you’re running on fumes isn’t a pleasant experience. “Aw, c’mon, don’t give me that face. Now I’m not too big on parties either, but you gotta go, alright? It’s gonna be fun!” After that, CT runs off to who knows where, leaving you in the middle of the hallway. 

You sigh, walking into your room. You take off your armor, not even knowing why you put it back on after your workout in the first place, grabbing some clothes from your closet out of the few clothes that you brought. You put on the first thing you grab. 

You walk out of your room, airing out your armpits by flapping your arms. As you walk past Maine’s door, he opens his door and walks out, directly into your furiously flapping arms. It was almost as if it were in slow motion- your hand slowly pushing against Maine’s cheek, his eyes wide in bewilderment. 

The second you fully processed that you just hit a freelancer in the face, you went right to apologising. At first, Maine looks a little angry and confused, but as you babble out what you were doing and you didn’t mean to bap him in the face, his expression turns to one of genuine curiosity and humor. 

He looks at you, still babbling apologies and starting to tear up a bit, and he starts laughing and gives you a big side hug. You immediately stop babbling, enjoying the feeling of Maine embracing you. No matter how odd that sounds, it was a comforting feeling. The hug goes on a little too long to be socially acceptable as  _ friendly _ , resulting in it being broken up by York walking past the hall, yelling to stop being such lovebirds and to get our asses down to the party. You blush. Maine reluctantly steps away from you. 

You both walk to the party in comfortable silence, the silence only being broken by the sounds of the party in the mess hall. It seems that all of the lower ranking soldiers were there along with the Freelancers, and at this point most of the soldiers were smashed. With there being a table full of food and booze, you wouldn’t expect anything less. You walk over to where the rest of the Freelancers were, all of them in casual gear, thank God. 

When you get near the table, you see York, Wash, and CT all talking in a circle. When they notice you York and CT jab Wash in the ribs, probably trying to get him to shut up about whatever they were talking about. You raise an eyebrow as you approach a clearly drunk Wash, with an almost drunk Carolina behind him. 

Carolina starts giggling intensely when you and Maine approach the group, Carolina holding onto Wash’s shoulders for support as she tries to form words. York covers her mouth quickly with both hands, whispering fiercely into her ear. You and Maine turn to each other with a confused look on both of your faces. What just happened? You decide not to question it and just go over to the snack table. 

When you get there, some drunken soldiers surround you, touching your shoulders and caressing your arms. You’ve never been a person for personal touching, even when you know the person well. You freeze up. You want to kick their asses into next Tuesday, but you’re too scared. Seriously, fuck bad past experiences. 

“Heyyyy, baby!” One soldier slurs into your ear.

“Get the fuck off me, you creep!” You say forcefully, trying to move away from them. The only thing that accomplishes is that it makes their grip on you stronger.

“Not yet, bitch. You’re ours.”

You freeze up, and as soon as one of the soldiers hands strays from your arms, you close your eyes tightly as you hear a deafening crack and feel an arm go around your shoulders. You open your eyes to find one of the two soldiers down on the ground, probably with a broken jaw, the other running for his life as York and Carolina chase him. The person attached to the arm around your neck is Maine, everything about his body position screaming  _ possessive _ . You blush and bury your face deep into his chest. He puts both of his arms around you, your weariness from the day finally taking its toll.

“C’mon.” Maine murmurs, attempting to lead you back to your room.

“Mmm, how about no?” You try to reason. Maine’s chuckle resonates through his chest as he picks you up and carries you bridal style through the mess hall and back up to your rooms.

You open your eyes and look up to Maine, who is giving  death glares to anyone who looks at you both. Needless to say, no one messed with you. He carries you into his room, setting you down gently onto his bed. He stands at the end of the bed, facing away from you.

There’s a pause as Maine shifts his stance and takes off his helmet.

“You know I would never hurt you, right?” He clears his throat, his voice scratchy from disuse. He asks so softly, you have to make sure it’s Maine that’s speaking. He turns his head slightly towards you. You nod, a solemn look on your face. He genuinely smiles at you, his smile wide and dazzling, his eyes crinkling up at the corners. You blushed red at this, smiling back at him. “Want t’go back t’your room?” 

“No, I’m good. I’d rather not have the nightmares, y’know?” You say, chuckling a bit. Maine just sighs and crawls into the bed next to you. You get under the covers, snuggling up to Maine completely, even going as far as tangling your legs together. You laugh a bit, causing Maine to laugh a bit, causing you to start tickling him because holy shit that was the cutest noise ever, causing him to tickle you back, which caused the blankets to be tangled up as you both struggled to tickle the other. You heavily land on the floor, Maine sitting gently on your stomach. You knew from the beginning this was a lost battle, but hey, you got Maine sitting on you out of it.  _ Not dirty, not dirty, not dirty... _

You both continue giggling, Maine pinning your arms down at your sides. The giggling slows as Maine realizes what position he has you in, his giggles slowly fading and his eyes staying locked on yours. His hands release your wrists as he moves back off of your stomach. You hefts you sit up and stare into his eyes. 

You give a small nod, hoping consent was what he was looking for. Apparently it was, because the second you did, he pushes his lips against yours. 

You had a few moments to adjust to the feeling, and that you were kissing  _ Maine _ , an agent of Project Freelancer. Holy shit, you were kissing one of the most ferocious Freelancers in the program! Now  _ that _ is definitely something to write home about.

Once you got the hang of kissing again, you noticed a few things about Maine. He is much more gentle than one would assume, with his hands gently holding your sides and his lips impossibly soft.  _ After this is done, you gotta ask him what kind of chapstick he uses. _

Eventually you both part, inducing a small giggle from you, thus causing Maine to smile and giggle back. You hop back on the bed and crawl under the covers, ready for a long night of dreamless rest. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took so long to update! i had no ideas, but i saw a post on tumblr that just sparked a flame for me. hope you enjoyed!


	4. Weeks Gone By

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You wait. And wait. And wait. When're they getting back?

Many weeks pass. No word from the team.

They were expected to be back soon, and they promised to write you. You weren’t ready for battle yet, but dear God you wish you were. York, Carolina, Tex, Maine, Wash, North, Wyoming and CT were all gone for a mission. You were clued in that it was a mission about obtaining a “sarcophagus” but you didn’t know anything past that. It was just you and Florida at the Mother of Invention. South was with you and Florida for a while, but she went on a few solo missions while the rest were gone, and with the only thing to do being training, you got pretty bored.  Florida helped improve your knife skills, so now you just spent most of the day practicing knife throwing.

It was supposed to be a mission that lasted a few days, max. You didn’t know what they were doing, but you tried to put faith in the Director. Over the past few days, though, you felt that Florida knew something. Whenever you would talk about the mission he would get nervous, looking for a way out of the conversation. You were starting to get nervous, contemplating whether or not to ask the Director about it. He would probably tell you it was nothing to worry about anyways, though.

You head down to the training arena, focusing on your more acrobatic moves. You’ve been watching videos of the Freelancers training sessions recently, trying to duplicate their moves. You’ve managed a few backflips, a quick 360 degree spin and shoot, and a high-stress knife throw into a target. You couldn’t wait for the rest of the Freelancers to get back so you could show them how much you’ve improved, but you also wish they were here sooner. You started to pace at night, having more nightmares than before and no Maine to cuddle up to. Now, your dreams had all the Freelancers dying and M.I.A. before they completed their mission.

You kept playing Skyrim, and you kept training. You overheard from some of the guards one night that the Director has a new AI fragment he wants to try out. You weren’t sure if that meant he wanted to try it out on you, but you worried nonetheless. You think you heard Xi, but you weren’t sure. You’ve heard a bit about the AI’s, but all you’ve heard is rumor. You never knew what was true on this ship and what wasn’t.

You go to the training room and warm up a bit. You start by doing some stretches and some high kicks, determined to be as good as Carolina. You hear a nervous cough by the door, coming from Florida. You stop for a second, turning towards him.

“What’s up, Florida? You okay?” You ask the concerned soldier, wiping off your sweaty forehead.

“Uh, yeah… about the whole thing about the whole team being gone for a few weeks…” Florida pauses, collecting himself. You hope to God he wasn’t going to say what you thought he was going to say.

“Don’t you fucking dare, Florida. Don’t you fucking dare tell me they’re dead.” Florida’s head snaps up, looking shocked.

“No, no no! Nothing like that. Don’t worry.” Florida almost sounds relieved at that, knowing that they aren’t dead. You look him in the eyes.

“So?” You say impatiently.

“Well, they’ve been doing other missions. And uh, not all of them made it out completely the same.” You look at Florida, annoyed confusion etched onto your face.

“What do you mean, ‘not all of them made it out completely the same’?” You approach Florida fluidly, looking menacing enough to make him step back a bit. You were downright pissed right now. If the others were hurt and he wasn’t telling you this whole time, you were gonna have to punch something repeatedly. Preferably the person who thought keeping you from your friends was a good idea. You go eye to eye with Florida.

“Well, uh, three people have AI’s now,” You look away and pace a bit, frustrated about how slowly Florida was going. In all honesty, Florida is one of the kindest people ever, but he could be a little infuriating with how touchy he thinks people are. “And um… Maine is...  uh… Mute, now.” You turn towards Florida, furious to hell and back.

“He’s WHAT NOW?? WHY DOES NOBODY TELL ME THESE THINGS?” You look around the training stadium, looking up into the viewing stands. You spot a flash of armor, and you bolt up the stairs to find a hiding York. “THE FUCK, YORK. THE FUCK.” You run up to the crouching York, who started to shield his face now. You all but jump on him, hugging him nearly to death. He responds to your sudden hug well, only being slightly confused before hugging back.

“Woah, Arizona, never saw you as the affectionate type. Must be why Maine likes you, he needs someone to balance out the moodiness.” York jokes like usual, but after the weeks you were worrying about your friends, this is exactly what you needed.

You let go of York suddenly, asking him where the others are. He gives a secretive shrug and watches you run off, trying to find the others.

You run as fast as you could through the hallway where your, Maine’s and CT’s bedrooms were. You open door after door and find nothing. You start to get a bit scared again and run to all the other’s rooms. Nothing. Panicking, you run down to the infirmary. The door was ajar and you heard muted voices. Your heart skipped a beat as you entered the room, all of those gone on the mission back and well. You look around to all the faces, all of them in some phase of nervousness. You realize you’re supposed to be angry and you cross your arms over your chest, looking at them all. When you realize you can’t keep up that facade any longer, you break out into a smile and go in for a group hug. You pull everyone in, laughing at the sound of CT complaining about how she was too short for this. York walks in the room and all but tackles all of you, making you laugh, just happy that they were all ok.

"So, what took you so long? Or can I ask that?" You say jokingly to them. They look around nervously. They all step back from the group, York coming forward.

"Well uh, some of us got AI's and had to heal." You look around the room, scanning angrily. You're tired of people clueing you to things but not outright telling you. "Me Maine and North. We can show you, if you want." You look at York, surprised how many people changed so much in a short period of time. You nod.

York quietly looks to his right, a small figure pops up over his shoulder resembling a soldier in green armor.

"This, is Delta. Or D, as I like calling him. You have anything to say, D?" York looks over to Delta hopefully.

"I would like to introduce myself to Agent Arizona, York. They seem very different than the rest of the recruits, very volatile." You look at Delta, not sure if you should be happy or upset. You decide to meet in the middle and be pleasantly surprised.

"Nice to meet you, Delta." You say, not sure if you should do a pseudo hand-shake or not. You decide against it and give a curt nod.

"It's good to meet you too, Agent Arizona. I hope I may be of assistance." York gives a pleased look in the general direction of the room. You assume Delta's sometimes a little shit. You look around the room, feeling like you're missing someone. Maine sits on the cot in the infirmary, giving you a little wave. A flood of relief comes over you, and you run over to the bed and pull Maine into a bone-crushing hug. He hugs you back just as hard, the rest of the room making an 'awwe' noise. You ignore them and simply bury your head into his shoulder.

"I missed you, Maine." You say quietly. He makes a type of noise similar to a purr, but louder. You giggle, wondering if Maine would become Mr. Whiskers. You step back from him, lacing your fingers with his. As soon as you do, another AI pops up beside him. A man in a formal outfit and seemingly on fire was beside Maine. He immediately gave you a bad feeling.

"I, dear Arizona, am Sigma. I will be working as Maine's translator." Sigma says, addressing you formally.

"Translator? Why would Maine need a translator?" You ask no one in particular. North speaks up.

"For his injuries he sustained during one of the missions." You looked to him furiously, promising to kill the sonofabitch that hurt Maine. "The person who hurt Maine is dead, Arizona. Don't worry." You calm a bit at that, but you still don't know what kind of injuries he sustained.

“But... “ You look around, trying to sort what happened. “What happened on the mission?” Once again, there’s a long pause. You look around, seeing who’ll take responsibility for telling this portion of the story. Surprisingly, it was Carolina.

“Maine and I were trying to get something that was part of the mission. When the insurrection came, we fought as best as we could. One member shot Maine in the throat fourteen times. It’s a hell of a miracle Maine’s not paralyzed.” Carolina looked at you with a look that told you that she felt what you feel with York. You nod.

“Then… Why didn’t you tell me? Were you scared i was going to do something irrational to check on Maine?”

“Yeah, something like that.” Wash says. “Don’t be offended though, it was a safety precaution.” You shrug, cuddling back up to Maine’s side.

“At least he’s okay.” You say quietly. Sigma opens his mouth, but Maine gives him a sharp look to silence him. The rest of the group gets the hint and gets out of the infirmary, letting you and Maine be alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ran out of inspiration for a while, but i got back some of my inspiration by watching seasons 9 and 10 of rvb. chapter summary can also apply to all the readers who waited almost two months for this


	5. A New Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AI talk, Maine, waking up early... what could go wrong?

Maine started to… change after a while. He started to put the cold shoulder on anyone who came near him, started putting off even eating to train. You guessed Sigma was doing something to him. Others thought it was because of his muteness, since it’s a thing that if people are hurt near their heads their personalities change. But you knew, you knew it was because of Sigma. You got scared for York too, but Delta seemed only to help York, and Theta was just a sweetie. You’ve been trying to get Maine to come back to his normal self, but all he did was ignore you. During one of these attempted begging and reasoning sessions late one night, Wyoming came to get you.

“Arizona, the Director wishes to have a word with you. He’s in his office.” Wyoming’s ridiculous accent always made talking to him so much better, but at those words you got scared. The Director only wanted to talk to people exclusively when something went wrong or they wanted something from you. You thanked Wyoming and tried to calmly make your way to the Director’s office. You mull over what he could say, maybe about how upset you got when you found all the Freelancers after their mission? Maybe about Maine and Sigma? Maybe about that other AI you heard about- Xi, or something like that. People’ve been starting to get AI’s, but that’s only because of a disability or for an advantage. You don’t know what the Director would give _you_ , of all people.

You reach the doors, looking up at the security cameras. The doors open, and you nervously step inside. The Director and the Counselor stand facing away from you, towards the main panel of controls. The Director turns his head slightly, talking towards you.

“Agent Arizona, I have a mission for you.” At this, he turns towards you. “Now, I’ve seen your rapid improvement and observational skills. I’ve also noticed that you care about the other Freelancers. I propose giving you an enhancement to aid you in battle. You and I both know you’re not up to par with the others, but you’re still strong, Arizona.” The Director stepped closer to you, his face composed but still filled with that manic passion of a scientist. “This enhancement will give you the precision needed for most missions, as well as enhancing your impulses. This will be a problem if you cannot control your AI. If you do control your AI enough to produce results in the battlefield, we will know you have succeeded.” He pauses for a moment, letting what he just said sink in. You weren’t sure what to think. On one hand, this was the opportunity of a lifetime! To finally fit in with the Freelancers, to have an AI, to have an improved life, and someone new on this dull ship. On the other hand, this may be a terrible mistake. You had no idea what it was like having an AI in your head, you had no idea what it would be like with your AI. You didn’t know how you would take it.

You were tired of training.

“Do you want to do this, Arizona?” The Director asks, stepping away from you. He roams around the room a bit, looking back to you for an answer. You and he both knew what your answer was going to be.

“Yes. I would love to accept this opportunity, Director.” You try and be as professional as possible, while you internally were extremely nervous. You don’t know what could happen, but you would find out. The Director smiles, turning towards the Counselor and speaking in low voices, probably talking about your upcoming operation. “I have one more question, Director, if I may?” You ask apprehensively.

“Why of course, Arizona.” The Director says, sounding slightly surprised you were still here.

“What’s the AI’s name?” There are a few beats of silence then, the air thick as the Director looks at you.

“Xi. That’s her name. She is going to be your AI.” The Director said tensely. You turned and started walking back over to your room.

Xi. Xi Xi Xi. Xi was going to be your AI. Your AI. You were going to have so much fun knowing what it’s like having an AI. You heard from North that the first week or so it’s hard having two voices in your head, but you feel more excited than anything else. Right about now, you wish you could have Maine back. He would be proud of you, but now all he does is grunt unintelligibly and goes on fighting, training, practicing.

You walk back down the halls to your room, feeling a nervous excitement in your gut. Once you reach your room, you change into your pajamas and try and calm down enough to fall asleep, your mind racing at what could happen. When you finally do fall asleep, your head fills with dreams. Nightmares, to be more specific. But this time, there were some newbies in the mix.

_No no no no no, why did it have to be Maine?? Why was it always Maine?_ Your subconscious narrates. You look up to find yourself in the middle of a city in the road, abandoned cars everywhere. There was an eerie silence, and you approach a spot on the ground soaked in blood. The entire city, quiet. You couldn’t fathom how there wasn’t anyone else here. You look at the spot. It was a mess of tangled limbs, a bloody carcass. You couldn’t stop looking though. Why wasn’t there anybody here? This person needed help! You try and call out for help, but nothing comes out. You’re alone. You realize you know who the pile is now. Maine. It’s Maine. Alone. Alone in the middle of a street, abandoned. Like a piece of garbage. Like nothing. Maine was thrown away, just like you.

The scene unfolds, a hectic battlefield. People fighting. You spot the Dakotas tag-teaming it, you spot Carolina in a one-on-ten, with her clearly winning. You spot Maine and CT tag-teaming as well. Wash and York are defending a point. For some reason, none of the enemies are attacking you. You have enough of a conscious mind to come to the conclusion that no one can see you. You approach the Freelancers, wondering what they were protecting. As soon as you get close, York points his gun right in between your eyes. _Get out of here, before I kill you!_ He says. He sounds pained. _You don’t belong, we don’t need you! We don’t need you! We don’t need you!_ You step back slowly, scared out of your mind. York keeps repeating the same ‘we don’t need you’ until he shoots you, sending you into the next dream.

You’re in an operating room, the walls stunningly white. There was a table with metal instruments lying on it, scaring you. The Director stands opposite to you. _The operation was a success, Arizona. Congratulations._ You feel accomplished, but you still feel a sense of dread, a feeling making your entire body become set on edge. You felt that this was wrong. There was another voice in your head. _Don’t listen to him, he’s crazy. He doesn't know what he’s saying. Kill him._  The AI whispers into your ear while the Director keeps talking to you, your AI whispering to kill him. You try and fight yourself from doing it, but you watch yourself pick up a sharp hunting knife from the table and approach the unconcerned Director slowly. Your body moves fast, the knife sinking into his skull as the dream shifts.

Maine is standing over you, but it’s not Maine. It’s Maine’s body, but you know it’s Sigma in there that’s controlling him. You know it’s Sigma hitting you. You’re on the floor, too shocked to do anything. Maine/Sigma stands over you, their stance clearly one of mockery. You hear Sigma’s voice. _You’re a useless piece to this puzzle, Arizona. Useless._ Maine kicks you hard in the gut. _Useless_. Another hard kick. _Useless. Useless. Useless._ With every word, he kicks you. You’re in pain, but you still can’t move. Maine promised he’d never hurt you, why was he doing this to you? _He isn't Maine anymore, Arizona_. Sigma says, Maine leaning over you. _He’s the Meta._

You awaken in a flash, breathing hard and covered in sweat. The dreams were fading from your memory, but you remember bits of them. Maine dead, you on the wrong side of a battle, your upcoming surgery, Maine- or was it Sigma? You couldn't recall- hitting you. You knew dreams stood for shit, but you really didn’t care. You just wanted to get ready for the day.

You look over to your alarm clock, only to find it was 4:28 in the morning instead of your usual 7:00. Well, why not make the best of this and do some early morning training since you know you’re not getting back to bed any time soon.

You make your way down to the training area, to find Carolina and South warming up already. Carolina was working on accuracy while South was working with weights. You walk over to the weight machine to get you started, then you were going to move onto guns. You didn’t want to be working with guns while tired. You stretch out, making sure your body is actually awake. Once you get into a bit of a routine, you let yourself zone out. You think about your dreams. You try and hold onto the details you remembered, but they were just outside your grasp. You knew something was off in the last dream, but you just couldn’t remember. It had something to do with Sigma, right? Maybe.

Once your body woke up, you switched over to gun training. You practice quickscoping, accuracy, and quick reloading. Slowly, the time reached closer to seven. You put back the guns, getting up and stretching. Carolina and South follow your lead, walking down to the mess hall with you. You grab some breakfast and walk over to your table. Carolina and South sit down around you. A few minutes later, Wash, CT and York join you at the table. Chatter starts up and you forget about your dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you liked this chapter, im trying to update fairly regularly now!


	6. Almost There

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something's up with Maine, and you intend to investigate.

You realize something’s off about breakfast, though. You mentally run over who was at the table, swearing internally. Of course, Maine was gone. You assumed he was just training like usual, but something inside of you guessed against that. You grabbed some toast to eat yourself and got some pastries for Maine, just in case he hadn’t eaten yet. You excuse yourself from the table for a moment, promising to tow Maine back to the cafeteria to eat something.

You walk down the quiet hallways of the habitation wing slowly. You knew Maine would either be in his room sleeping or training, so you decided to stop by his room first just in case. As you got closer to his room, though, you started to hear something. It sounded like someone crying, but you hoped it wasn’t Maine. You don’t think you could handle Maine crying, especially when he’s held his emotions back for so long.

You approach his door cautiously, the crying getting louder. You push the door open slightly, peeking your head into the whirlwind that was Maine’s room. His TV was tipped over and probably broken, his bed all over the place with the sheets torn on the floor and the mattress torn open and his power armor was skewed all over his room.

But Maine was the worst mess of them all. He was tucked into a little ball in the corner of his room, wearing only his sweatpants. He was shaking, sobs wracking his body. You approached him quietly, hearing his broken-voiced pleading.

He was pleading with Sigma, it seemed. He kept saying, ‘I want to be back’ over and over again. You were terrified, remembering your dream from all those nights ago. _He isn’t Maine, anymore. He’s the Meta_. You hear it echo in your head.

You walked closer to him, deciding whether to put your hand on him or not. You got about five feet away from him before he noticed you. He turned around quickly, scrambling towards you. He latches onto you, breathing deeply. You hug him back just as hard, repeating that you love him over and over again. He nods against your shoulder in response.

You stand like that for a while, calmly rocking Maine back and forth on his feet. You do this until you feel Maine calm down to his usual self. At that point, you removed him from your shoulder, holding him at arm's length.

“Let’s go eat something, okay?” You say. Maine nods, putting on a shirt and following you back to the cafeteria.

You reach your table, everyone surprised to see Maine there and socializing. You were happy to see Maine back to his normal self again. You knew it wouldn’t last long, but you tried to enjoy the moment at hand. _Speaking of which…_ You think, reaching over to Maine’s hand, lacing your fingers together tightly. You _really_ missed Maine. Everyone seemed happy Maine was here, but Maine seemed to come in and out of himself. You wished you could do something.

“So Arizona,” Carolina started, “I heard you’re getting an upgrade.” She gave you a nervous glance. _What was she talking about?_ You ask yourself. _Maybe the AI thing? Yeah, probably the AI thing._ You conclude.

“Uh, yeah.” You say awkwardly. The entire table was looking at you in interest. You got nervous. “I’m getting an AI.” The reactions are… Wildly different to say the least. York and North give you supportive looks, murmuring ‘good luck’ jokingly while Maine grips your hand tightly, shaking his head in small but quick motions, maintaining eye contact.

You open your mouth to say something, but as soon as you do Maine’s eyes go blank. His face goes back to neutral. You panic, hoping Maine could stay in the present. Hoping Sigma wouldn’t take over.

Maine stands up.

You watch as Maine walks away from the table, his pacing slow and labored, as if Maine was fighting back. You hoped to God he was fighting back.

You look back at the rest of the Freelancers helplessly, gesturing to Maine. They all looked back at you with pity, knowing that they couldn’t do anything to stop Sigma. You didn’t want Maine to be the Meta, you just wanted him to be _Maine_. You wanted him to be whole again.

You thought of an idea that was so stupid it just might work.

You knew the Director wouldn’t get rid of Sigma, especially since he “produced results” in the battlefield. You also knew that if Sigma was deemed too dangerous to the rest of the team the Director would have to get rid of him. There was only one real way to get Sigma to go off the edge. To get him involved in someone else. Sigma needed someone strong to harness what he wanted, he needed someone that could follow orders. He needed someone strong. He needed someone that could get him what he wanted.

You needed Xi. You needed this enhancement to really persuade Sigma to what he really wanted- power. Strength. Knowledge. You needed Xi more than you thought you would.

You finish eating and hurry to the training room. You were going to need to train hard to be ready for an AI.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for two things, sorry this is so short and sorry i was gone for so long! I lost inspiration for this for a while, but I'm hoping to get another chapter out soon!


End file.
